Chapter Text
The robot barely had time to blink before Sonic tore through it like a storm on rails, scattering its metal guts across the alley.
A second bot lunged from the alley’s shadow. Sonic spun low, ducked its swipe, then zipped behind it and delivered a solid kick to its back. The machine crumpled into the wall with a sparking hiss.
“Come on,” Sonic muttered, wiping dust off his quills. “You guys were scarier last week.”
Three more approached — heavier, old G.U.N. recon models that had been reprogrammed by some unknown third party. Their limbs whirred, red optics glowing in sync.
Sonic grinned. “Okay, okay. Let’s dance.”
He shot forward, bouncing off a broken traffic pole to gain momentum, then zipped straight between the trio. His speed shredded their targeting systems. Sparks flew. One fired a blast into its own ally by mistake.
By the time the last one whirled to lock on, Sonic was already airborne.
He came down hard — foot-first, Chaos-charged — and the bot split in two on impact.
Static filled the air.
Sonic landed, panting only slightly, surrounded by metal debris and glowing circuitry.
He tapped the communicator on his wrist. “East alley’s clear. That was the last group.”
Tails’ voice crackled through. “Copy that. Surveillance confirms. You heading up?”
“Yeah,” Sonic said, already moving. “I’ll take the long way.”
Sonic never really liked rooftops.
They weren’t made for someone like him — someone who always needed to move, to feel the wind in his face and have space to run.
He was at his best on long stretches of road or racing through the open wild. Rooftops just felt too cramped. Too quiet. The kind of place where your thoughts got too loud. Still, tonight, that’s where he found himself.
He leaned on the rusty railing of a broken-down parking garage, looking out at the city. Washington, D.C. was barely recognizable — burned-out cars, smashed windows, sandbags where flower beds used to be. The sun was setting, turning the sky red behind the shattered buildings.
Down below, a G.U.N. truck rattled past, coughing smoke. Someone had spray-painted a checkpoint wall in messy red letters: "We Deserve Better."
Sonic narrowed his eyes. He’d seen messages like that a lot lately. Spray paint had become a way to protest, remember people, or just feel heard in a world that barely listened.
The rooftop door creaked open.
“There you are,” said Tails.
Sonic didn’t turn. “Was it the smell of hero that gave me away?”
“More like the trail of broken stuff you left on the stairs.”
Sonic shrugged. “I call it tactical redecorating.”
Tails came to stand beside him, looking tired. His fur was messy, and his goggles were askew. He looked like he hadn’t slept properly in days. Pretty much the norm these days.
“They got checkpoint nine’s generator running,” Tails said.
“That’s good.”
“It blew up thirty minutes later.”
Sonic tilted his head. “Less good.”
“I’m holding things together with tape and luck,” Tails muttered.
“You’ve done more with less.”
“Sure. But it’s getting old.”
They stood in silence for a bit. Not awkward silence — just tired.
“They put up the markers?” Sonic asked.
“Yeah. This morning.”
“Together?”
“Yeah.”
“Nothing overdone?”
“Just their names.”
Two simple stones at the edge of the park — one with Amy’s name, one with Knuckles’. No statues. No speeches. Just a place people could go.
Amy had died during a downtown ambush while helping evacuate a flooded metro station. She stayed behind to hold off the enemy ground forces when one of the transport tunnels collapsed. The blast took out half the support beams — she never made it out.
Knuckles fell less than a week later, deep in the red zone near the Capitol ruins. He was holding up the collapsing roof of a freeway underpass after an airstrike hit a nearby weapons convoy. There were still scorch marks on the walls where it happened. Nobody had gotten to say goodbye.
Sonic nodded. “She would’ve hated a speech.”
“And Knuckles would’ve smashed the plaque.”
Sonic smirked. “I can hear him now: ‘Don’t get sappy.’”
Tails smiled faintly. “They messed up the dates at first. I fixed it.”
“Of course you did.”
A military helicopter thundered by overhead, loud and low — the kind that never stopped patrolling now. Just part of the soundtrack of a city at war.
Tails looked sideways. “You going to see it?”
Sonic paused. “Eventually.”
“‘Eventually’ isn’t really a plan.”
“I’ll go. Just... not tonight.”
Tails didn’t push. He never did. He kicked a small stone off the ledge.
“There’s a stash of chili dogs back at base. Yours are labeled.”
“You label everyone’s food now?”
“Just yours.”
Sonic raised an eyebrow, then smirked. “Weirdly flattering.”
A drone buzzed overhead. They didn’t react.
“South side’s holding. East’s getting worse,” Tails said.
“You want me there in the morning?”
Tails nodded. “Yeah. But get some sleep first.”
“I’ll sleep when D.C. stops being on fire.”
“You said that yesterday.”
“And I meant it.”
Tails gave him a look that said he cared but was too tired to argue. Sonic gave him one of his usual sideways grins.
Tails turned and headed for the door.
“If you pass out up here, I’m not carrying you while flying,” he warned.
“I’m not that heavy.”
“You’re emotionally heavy.”
Sonic laughed. “Eh, guess I’ve gotta up my cardio.”
Tails disappeared inside.
Sonic stayed behind for a while, staring out at the broken skyline.
Some days that felt like a mission. Other days, like a punishment.
Tonight, it just felt heavy.
But he hadn’t given up.
Not yet.
And that meant something.
He looked out over the city one last time, then turned and headed down the stairs.
The safehouse wasn’t far. It was a repurposed townhouse between a boarded-up store and a supply drop station. Reinforced windows, solar panels on the roof. Sonic and Tails had the top floor. It wasn’t comfortable, but it worked.
Inside, it smelled like hot metal and leftover food. Tails had a messy workspace in the corner — wires, tools, half-built machines. The U.S. government had invested a lot into his tech — backup power, clean energy systems, and other things meant to keep D.C. from shutting down.
It was all top secret. Sonic thought most of it barely held together.
Even Eggman had helped — publicly, surprisingly. He made it clear it wasn’t out of goodwill. It was about survival. He didn’t want the world to end before he had a chance to conquer it himself someday.
Tails shut the door and dropped his gear. “You should recharge.”
“You say that like I’m a phone.”
“You act like one. Always on. Never resting.”
Sonic dropped onto the couch and stretched. “I run on style and snacks.”
“Then you’re almost out of both.”
The lights flickered. One bulb popped and went out.
Tails groaned and went to fix it.
“Want me to kick it?” Sonic asked.
“Only if your foot can generate 300 volts.”
“No promises.”
Tails flipped a switch. The lights buzzed back to life.
“I need to rebuild the whole system from scratch. This stuff’s junk,” he muttered.
Sonic glanced at the fridge. A sticky note with his name was on the front.
“I labeled the chili dogs,” Tails said.
“Impressive commitment,” Sonic replied, actually smiling this time.
For a moment, the world outside didn’t seem so loud.
A knock came at the door — two short taps, then one. The rhythm was familiar: friendly.
Tails opened it to reveal a soldier — Sergeant Alvarez, someone Sonic had known since the early days of the war. The two had pulled more than a few civilians out of wreckage together, and Alvarez had a way of keeping things grounded even when the sky was falling. Sonic trusted him — which wasn’t something he said about many people in uniform..
“Evening,” he said, voice low but casual. “Sorry to bother. Just checking in.”
Sonic raised a brow from the couch. “We cause trouble already?”
“Not yet,” the soldier said, smiling faintly. “Command just wanted eyes on all key contributors tonight. Bit of chatter going around. Nothing serious.”
Tails stepped back to let him in. “You mean the grid failures?”
“Partly. And a few rogue bots near the Capitol ruins. We’re locking things down for the night.”
Sonic stretched his legs out with a sigh. “Always fun. You need us on call?”
“Not yet. Just wanted you in the loop.” He looked at Tails. “They still want progress updates on the portable core system by Friday.”
Tails nodded. “They’ll get one.”
“Appreciate it,” the soldier said. He looked at Sonic again, this time with a mix of respect and something else — maybe curiosity. “Also… for what it’s worth, a lot of the guys were glad to see you at the briefing last week. Thought you’d blown us off for good.”
Sonic didn’t answer right away. He glanced toward the window. “Amy wanted us to try. So… we’re trying.”
The soldier gave a small nod, respectful. “That’s enough. Stay safe.”
The silence returned.
Before the soldier could leave, he paused, reaching into a pouch on his vest. "Almost forgot," he said, pulling out a small black case. "These came through earlier. Straight from the President."
He handed the case to Tails, who opened it carefully. Inside, resting in foam lining, were several silver-toned medals. Sleek design. No flashy colors. Just the seal of the United States and a simple inscription: For Outstanding Service and Civilian Valor.
There were ones for Sonic and Tails — and also for Rouge, Shadow, Omega. Even Amy and Knuckles.
Tails’ eyes lingered on those last two. Not just tokens. Not just metal. They meant someone out there remembered.
Sonic sat up slightly. “Huh.”
He reached into the case and picked out the medal labeled for Shadow. His fingers tightened around it a little as he turned it over in his hand.
Sonic held the medal for a second longer, softer now.
“I’ll hold onto this,” he said, almost to himself.
Tails nudged him lightly with an elbow. “You keeping that one close for when he finally checks in? Or are you just collecting Shadow merch now?”
Sonic didn’t look up. “He’s been running with Team Dark. You know how he is.”
“Yeah,” Tails said with a knowing smirk. “You miss him.”
Sonic scoffed, waving him off. “I do not.”
Tails bumped his shoulder lightly. “Sure. And I totally believe that from the guy who’s been staring at the window like a puppy every night.”
“Hey,” Sonic said, mock offended. “I’m a very cool, extremely normal window-staring individual.”
“Right,” Tails grinned. “Totally unrelated to any black-and-red hedgehogs or anything.”
Sonic rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched. He wanted to deflect, to change the subject — but the silence that followed made it clear Tails wasn’t going to let it go. Not completely.
And maybe... maybe he didn’t really want him to.
Across the room, Sergeant Alvarez had gone quiet. Still standing there, still waiting — like he was letting them have their moment before stepping back in.
He cleared his throat lightly, drawing their attention again.
“They’re not doing a ceremony,” the soldier explained. “Too risky. But the President asked us to deliver them personally. Said you earned them a hundred times over.”
Tails didn’t say anything. He just looked at the medal, then over at Sonic.
Sonic gave a half-shrug. “Not really why we do it.”
“No,” the soldier agreed. “But it matters. People notice. Even in the mess. The President wanted me to say that, too. He’s... really grateful. Said none of this holds together without you two.”
He gave them a final nod, then turned for the door. Just before leaving, Sonic spoke up.
“Tell him thanks,” he said. “For remembering.”
Tails nodded beside him. “And for not forgetting the ones we lost.”
Alvarez didn’t say anything — just gave a small, respectful salute — then slipped out into the night.
The door clicked shut.
Tails placed the case on the table.
Neither of them reached for it.
Eventually, Sonic flopped back onto the couch and stared at the ceiling, idly turning Shadow’s medal between his fingers — not like he meant to, just something his hands kept doing when his mind got too loud.
“You think she would’ve made fun of the inscription?”
Tails smiled a little. “Nah. She’d be proud.”
Sonic gave a soft snort. “Yeah. But Knuckles would’ve had a field day.”
“‘You got a shiny coin for punching robots. Great.’”
They both chuckled, just a little.
Then Sonic’s gaze drifted back to the medals.
“Still kinda wild,” he said quietly. “Getting something like that. From the actual President.”
Tails glanced at him. “You earned it.”
Sonic shrugged, like it didn’t matter. But it did.
It mattered that someone had seen the work. That it wasn’t invisible. That what they were doing — what they’d lost — meant something to someone outside of just them.
Tails shifted a little, watching Sonic quietly. “You know,” he said, “everyone’s talking about us out there. Across the country. People are scared, but they keep saying the same thing: 'Thank Chaos Sonic’s still fighting.' You're the one they look to — the one they believe in.”
Sonic rolled his eyes with a smirk. “Yeah, well, half of them don’t even know how much of that is because of you.”
Tails raised an eyebrow. “What, the chili dogs?”
Sonic snorted. “No, smart guy — the tech. The barriers. The generators. The stuff keeping whole sectors from collapsing. You're basically holding the east coast together with chewing gum and genius.”
Tails ducked his head, a little sheepish. “I just... build things. You’re the one out there getting it done.”
“Only because I’ve got you backing me up,” Sonic said. He sat forward a bit, more serious now. “You’re not just some guy in a lab, Tails. You’re my partner. My best friend. You always have been.”
Tails looked at him for a long second, then smiled — real and quiet.
“Right back at you, blue.”
Sonic sat up a little more. “Tails, come on. You’re out here designing half the gear keeping this place running. You’re the reason I’m even still standing half the time.”
Tails looked surprised again, then a bit embarrassed.
“You’re doing a lot, Tails. Don’t let them forget that.”
There was a beat of silence, warm this time.
“Thanks,” Tails said, a little softer.
Sonic leaned back again, folding his hands behind his head. “You’re the brain. I’m just the blue blur.”
Tails yawned and stretched, rubbing at one of his eyes. “We should crash soon. Big day tomorrow.”
Sonic stretched out across the couch and let out a long breath. “Finally,” he said with a grin. “I’m beat. Gonna sleep for, like, twelve hours.”
Tails nodded, heading for the back room and flicking off the hallway light as he went. “Try not to snore too loud.”
But before Sonic could settle, a sharp buzz cut through the room.
A red alert flashed across the wall panel. The voice that followed was calm, but urgent: “Sonic the Hedgehog. Immediate deployment requested. Hostile contact near East Barricade. Repeat—East Barricade.”
Sonic was already on his feet.
Tails leaned back around the doorframe, wide-eyed. “Seriously?”
Sonic was already tying his shoes. “Guess the twelve hours of sleep’ll have to wait.”
Tails let out a tired laugh. “Typical.”
“Like they say, no rest for the fast,” Sonic quipped.
Tails gave him a look. “Literally no one says that.”
“They should.”
Tails rolled his eyes but smiled. “Be safe, okay?”
Sonic flashed him a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “C’mon. When am I not?”
“Always,” Tails said, softer this time.
And with that, he was gone.
Tails stood in the quiet that followed, staring at the spot where Sonic had just been. The medals still sat on the table, untouched.
Tails exhaled, grabbed a blanket, and turned off the last light.
The war wasn’t over. Not yet.
But they were still fighting.
Together.